


the promise at dawn

by franzferdinand



Series: new skin for the old ceremony [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe, and surprise! it's relevant, but i like it, pre slash, spy julian, there is not much of this, this is canon, threatening each other with weapons is how garak and bashir flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-20 20:31:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21062768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franzferdinand/pseuds/franzferdinand
Summary: Dialogue prompt fill for:“I’m right here, completely at your mercy. Why don’t you just kill me?”“While it would make my life a lot easier, it would also make it much more boring. I prefer the world with you in it. . . for now, anyway.”Also takes place in my little spy!Julian 'verse. First impressions of mice and men often go awry, or something like that.





	the promise at dawn

It was a little odd, to have his own knife at his throat. 

“I’m right here, completely at your mercy. Why don’t you just kill me?” 

“While it would make my life a lot easier, it would also make it much more boring. I prefer the world with you in it. . . for now, anyway.” 

“My, how kind of you.” Bashir wriggled slightly, trying to arch his neck away from the cold steel. It was scarcely effective, what with Garak’s other arm crossing his chest and keeping them pressed together, but it felt good to complain. “If that’s the case, shouldn’t you be releasing me right about now?” 

“I just want to ensure that we’re on the same page before anyone does anything they might regret. I’m sure you understand.” The Cardassian shifted his weight, pulling them both so they stood more upright. “When I do let you go, I shall be keeping the knife. And you will let it stay that way. We can discuss the situation like reasonable men, yes?” 

When Julian was silent for a second, Garak tightened his grip just the slightest bit, and it was enough. 

“Yes,” he grunted. “Yes, alright. Just let me go.” 

Garak released him carefully, and as soon as his arms were loose enough Bashir darted away from them, whirling around so he was facing Garak, a few feet between them. Garak’s stance was still wary, the knife ready in his hand. Bashir took a low breath, willing his spine to relax, his shoulders back. Standing tensed would just make him easier to knock down if they came to blows again. Better to relax now, prepare himself. Catch his breath. 

“Now that’s much nicer,” he muttered, fighting the urge to rub his neck. The suspicion in the air between them was palpable. 

“Don’t sound so offended, Doctor. The whole business could have been avoided if you hadn’t decided to attack me in such a barbaric manner.” 

“Barbaric! I cannot--” Bashir cut himself off, forcing a deep breath into his aching lungs. “Alright. No more fighting.” 

“I’m glad we’re finally seeing eye to eye.” Garak’s posture straightened slightly, his arms moving closer to his sides. It was far from trust, but it was enough for Bashir to feel safe enough in pushing the hair off his forehead, taking a few more deep breaths. 

This was the tricky part. The part where _trust me_ began, even in the smallest of ways. A loosening of the joints, a word said without wariness dripping off the edges. He tried to let his residual shakes say _fear_, say _didn’t think I’d get this far_.

“So,” Bashir said finally. “I’m supposed to kill you. You don’t want to die.” 

“That’s about the size and shape of it. I don’t want to die and I have a sneaking suspicion you don’t exactly want to kill me, either.” 

For a moment, Bashir’s blood ran cold. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You heard what I said before our little altercation, Doctor. Are you really so sure that this isn’t a suicide mission you’re on?”

It took all of his effort not to let his relief sag his shoulders, push out a sigh. He kept breathing, kept trying to disengage Garak’s guard. 

“Say you’re right,” he said finally, leaning back against a table heaped with folded shirts. “Say I don’t know exactly if Section 31 wants me to succeed or to die. What do you think that changes?” 

“I’d say it changes everything. What was the timeline of your mission?” 

Julian let himself take a deep breath, trying to relax and letting his eyes brush the floor. The relief he felt was real, but he knew that the purposeful vulnerability of the actions would, hopefully, soften Garak up a little, even if he didn’t realize it. “I had a lot of time. They didn’t give me a hard line. You’re seen as a tough nut to crack, Mr. Garak.”

“I’m flattered,” Garak said, in a voice that said he was anything but. “So, you’ll agree, we don’t have to decide on anything immediately. My death is not a rush order, as it were.” 

“. . . I suppose you’re right,” Bashir muttered. 

“So it might be in both of our best interests to perhaps grant me a stay of execution.” 

Bashir just looked at him, letting a hint of desperation into his eyes. “Do you think we could perhaps continue this conversation some other time? I promise I won’t try to kill you until then.” 

Garak just smiled, and there was something in his smile that Julian wanted to savor and destroy all at once. “Of course, Doctor. Why not, say, lunch tomorrow?” 

“Certainly. Lunch.”

**Author's Note:**

> I almost forgot! I made a little Spotify playlist for Garak and Julian, not particularly inspired by any fic and with no real thematic consistency, but the songs are nice. Feel free to give it a listen! 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1f8HKt0Y8MepObdWkvb9Qd?si=m9Tyme_ySzOLhnBQFRWR_g


End file.
